Triple Cross
by Winter Skye
Summary: SGC intrigue, Tok'ra duplicity, and NID deceit: An old friend is back in town... and this time he's not alone. Complete.
1. Routine

DISCLAIMER : Stargate is the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. No infringement on copyrights and trademarks is intended. All original material is copyrighted to the author. 

* * *

SPOILERS : From Season 7 onward 

* * *

_Routine_. A word Carter had learned to fear. If just one more _routine_, just one more _nothing can go wrong_, just one more _insert mundane task_ didn't blow up in her face... And dammit if it ever took three attempts to dial home again... 

She watched her team run through the gate. The DHD provided her just enough cover -- Zat in one hand, P-90 in the other, she didn't dare look but just let loose electrical mayhem and sprayed round after round before making a run for it herself. 

Thirty yards... twenty... fifteen... ten... five... her mind calculated the distance even as she continued firing... two yards and dive... she saw the small rock as her foot landed... screamed as the searing pain tore at her ankle... cursed her luck in that fraction of a second between awareness and black dread as Zat-fire struck the ground beneath her... praying to the Gods of physics that she had enough momentum to... 

She hit the ramp hard, rolling, tumbling out of control. Yet even through the pain and confusion she saw the gate shut down as she struggled to resist hands grabbing at her roughly, dragging her away. She saw her team huddled in a corner surrounded by airmen; she heard Hammond's voice barking out orders as the gate began dialing out. 

Closer, behind her, a female voice swore. 

"Shit, if it isn't her again making a mess of..." 

"Captain!" 

Carter winced at the verbal slap in the face. She tried turning towards the familiar voices, but an airman blocked her. 

"Sorry, Major," he apologized, "Orders." 

"Move out!" Carter heard. Before she blacked out curiosity still managed to get the better of her. She made herself relax, sought a reflecting surface and watched the strange group pass through the gate. Immediately she knew she didn't like what -- and who -- she saw; then the darkness came and she didn't care. 

Nor did she care for the interrogation when she woke. 

She opened her eyes slowly; she knew from the way her head pounded that she'd been sedated. And when she tried to move... she had to wonder if the restraints were really necessary. General Hammond stood at ease, waiting patiently with Janet hovering awkwardly behind him. 

"Leave the room, Doctor," Hammond said quietly. 

"But, Sir..." 

"Now, Doctor, that's an order. And close the door behind you." 

"Yes, Sir. But if..." 

"You don't have to remind me, Doctor." He waited for the door to close but still stood, waiting, thinking. "Dammit, Major," he said finally, "you have no idea how much damage you may have caused coming back when you did." He paused. "The situation you've put yourself in..." 

"Sir, my team..." 

"Yes, Major, I know. Three attempts to dial home. We covered that in your mission debriefing. This time we're talking about something altogether different." 

"Sir? I don't understand." 

"And you won't if you keep talking," Hammond stated. "I'm fighting to save your sorry hide, _Major_." 

Carter paled at the anger in his voice. The friendly General she thought she knew had gone; now she was looking at a hardened commanding officer. 

"When you speak you will answer my questions, and only my questions. You will be concise. You will offer no questions, no guesses, no thoughts or opinions. You will restrict yourself to answering exactly." Hammond paused. "Do you understand, _Major_?" 

"Sir. Yes, Sir." It was all she could do to keep the pain out of her voice -- and the straps kept her from saluting. 

"Good." Hammond nodded. "How's the condition of your ankle, Major?" 

For a moment Carter thought he'd nodded because of her response, but then she saw a nurse, standing quietly out of the way, prepare a hypo. Her first instinct was to reject the question and offer an opinion, but she stopped herself and hesitantly tested her foot. Still, she bit her lip at the pain. A dozen questions popped into her head. Uppermost was why Hammond would ask if he knew it was bad. Carter took a deep breath and found a spot on the ceiling to stare at. "Not good, Sir," she said as steadily as she could. 

"When you last returned through the stargate, outside of your team and the airmen on duty, how many other officers did you see?" 

Carter played the scene over again in her mind. She'd been disoriented but she'd seen... "Two, Sir." 

"How many officers did you hear?" 

This was trickier. She'd not thought of counting how many she'd heard. There were two voices... But she didn't know if he was still an officer, so should she count him? Specifically, she only knew for certain that one of the voices was an officer; the status of the other was open to interpretation. Carter tried to calm herself before she spoke. "One, Sir." 

"How many people went through the gate, Major?" 

She knew the answer to that was a no-brainer. But... what answer did Hammond want? Dammit, she knew by the questions that he was giving her subtle clues. She also knew the nurse -- and she was Pentagon -- not SGC. But did Hammond know that she'd recognize her? At least, Carter knew, if the worst came to the worst, there were only so many times she could get the answer wrong. "Three, Sir," she said... and knew immediately by the way the nurse sighed that she'd got it wrong. 

Hammond looked grim as he nodded. "Don't make it any harder on yourself, Major." He took a step back as the nurse approached. Carter winced as the needle bit her arm, not liking at all the nurse's smile; and she was completely unprepared for her fist smacking into her jaw. But Carter found the spot on the ceiling and again stared resolutely as darkness began to descend. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hammond shake his head. 

Nor did she care for the interrogation when she woke. 

She opened her eyes slowly; she knew from the way her head pounded that she'd been sedated. 

Hammond waited for the door to close but still stood, waiting, thinking. "Dammit, Major," he said finally, "you have no idea how much damage you may have caused coming back when you did." He paused. "The situation you've put yourself in..." 

"Sir, my team..." 

"Yes, Major, I know. Three attempts to dial home. We covered that in your mission debriefing. This time we're talking about something altogether different." 

"Sir? I don't understand." 

"And you won't if you keep talking," Hammond stated. "I'm fighting to save your sorry hide, _Major_." 

Carter paled at the anger in his voice... 


	2. Misdirection

The gate shut down behind them. 

"Bitch!" 

Maybourne laughed. "Now, now," he smiled at his young Captain, and then a thought struck him: "The brilliant Major or your devoted Colonel?" he asked. 

"C'mon, Harry," she grinned back up at him. "_You're_ my bitch and you know it." 

"That's _Colonel_ Maybourne to you, Captain!" Maybourne's smile faded; he, too, could do without the pretense. 

"Yes, Sir! Colonel Maybourne, Sir!" Hailey stood to attention, saluting. She knew where this little... contretemps... was going and... she hated the idea of having a third with them on this operation as much as Harry did. Orders were orders, but... "What you did? I owe you one," she sneered. The trouble was, she knew he'd only enjoy it; the same way he knew she did. "C'mon, Harry, let's get on with it." Hailey set off at a pace she knew would tax him just enough to make him upset. If the other one wanted to come along... well, he'd stayed quiet and out of their way so far, and it was his choice. 

"Y'know," she heard Harry say, as he struggled after her, "I get back in this lark, _and_ get her promoted, and sometimes I wonder." 

"Me, too, Harry," their unwanted companion replied wearily. "Me, too." 

It had been, Hailey mused as she ran, a perfect arrangement for her and for Harry. Then the resentment of what the two of them were doing -- what they had become -- had got in the way... despite their best efforts to keep their profiles as low as possible. 

They'd become... successful. Harry got to play at intrigue, sowing his own special kind of lies and deceit where it worked best for the SGC -- and for him; while she got to use all her skills, her mental abilities and physical prowess, where it did the most for her -- especially if it meant putting one or two noses out of joint. Of course, Harry liked to do a little sowing of a different kind... but once she'd got to know him better... 

Hailey picked up her pace. At first she'd thought he was... but -- she smiled -- it's what's inside a person that matters. And now... Harry was forty pounds lighter, his body was leaner, fitter. He still didn't like running, and his pack was a quarter the weight of hers, but when he got his breath back... Hailey slowed as she reached their first objective. 

Orders were orders. O'Neill was with them as an observer; Harry was in charge, and they were to defer to the Colonel only in the case of an emergency. Otherwise, safety and protocol aside, he wasn't there. 

She'd ran eight kilometers and they were perhaps a kilometer behind. For Harry that would be less than five minutes, which gave her time to shuck her pack and set up base one. 

The Colonel, she knew, wouldn't be happy. She knew every SG-1 report, each one committed to memory; she'd gone over every fine detail, learning how they worked tactically and personally. She knew all about team-work -- and how it didn't apply to her. She also knew what everyone thought of Harry. And how wrong they were about him, too. 

When Harry and the Colonel stumbled into the camp, Hailey made sure she was waiting. She lit the fire with a blast from a Zat she wasn't supposed to have taking both of them by surprise. Maybourne, coughing and laughing as O'Neill cursed, clapped his appreciation. 

"Y'know, Jack, she really is the best," Harry said, carefully storing his pack away from the fire. "Out here... she's in her element." A brace of too-large, quite dead, rat-like creatures landed at his feet. "And she can cook, too." He laughed. "You gonna join us, or you wanna get your own food?" 

O'Neill looked around for Hailey, but she'd gone off again. "You know about procedure, Harry." He shook his head. "Everything -- and I mean everything -- you two do is _so_ wrong on so many levels it's a wonder..." 

"You almost sound as if you care, Jack." 

"About you, Maybourne? Not in the slightest. But Hailey... she's got a future and you're a bad, _bad_ influence." 

Hailey listened in as she always did. She knew what Harry thought, but the Colonel would give her a different perspective. And what she learned from him would help her progress -- not to taking Carter's place, or even his; her sights were set much higher. She was in it for the long haul, and she would get there any way she could. 

"Oh, she's got a future all right." Hailey grinned as Harry looked around for her as well. "And not necessarily within the SGC. Everyone's watched her. NID, CIA... people you've never heard of. If Carter hadn't stepped in," Harry let his voice drop to a whisper, "You know they were waiting for her to get kicked out of the Academy?" 

"Ya don't say," O'Neill sat down, feigning lack of interest. 

"Say what?" Hailey chose that moment to let them know she was back, dropping an arm full of roots on top of the dead rats. 

"Oh, I was just extolling your virtues," Maybourne grinned wickedly. "Or lack of," laughing at O'Neill's discomfort. "Dead rat?" he held up one of the ugly creatures, "Or... whatever this is?" 

"Harry?!" O'Neill looked on in disgust as Maybourne pulled a flask from a pocket and took a shot of, knowing Harry, most likely a very fine malt. Hailey laughed as she caught one of the rats Harry tossed her and began skinning it. Still, much to his surprise, within minutes Maybourne had peeled the vegetables, Hailey had skinned and diced the rats, and as if they were gourmet chefs they had dinner skewered on twigs laced with whiskey, seasoned with he hated to think what, slowly cooking over the open fire. 

Whatever else he thought of their methods, Hailey was certain the Colonel wouldn't deny that when they did work together, that they did it well. He didn't even turn his nose up at the food, but as night fell and O'Neill took first watch, his jaw did drop as she and Harry went to the same tent. As far as Hailey was concerned, the Colonel could make of it what he wanted. 

But when O'Neill heard the first slap -- and worse, when he heard Maybourne chuckle -- if O'Neill hadn't wanted this assignment before, he wanted it even less now. 

... 

At first light they broke camp. O'Neill tried to concentrate on Maybourne ferreting through the pack he'd carried as Hailey stripped and took the little that she needed from hers. 

"Whoa, Maybourne! They're not what I think they are?" O'Neill watched as Maybourne began assembling a pair of rifles that were definitely not standard issue. "Are they?" 

"They're not P-90s if that's what you mean, Jack." Maybourne smiled at Hailey's dirty chuckle. "Russian. Dragunov SVDs. Very slightly modified, of course." 

"And this sweetie is an IMI 99," Hailey continued. "Not as accurate, but strictly non-Kosher, just for Harry." 

"That's just swell, Harry." And for good measure O'Neill shot Hailey a disparaging look. "If Hammond catches you..." 

"Sir? Permission to speak freely?" Hailey interrupted. O'Neill nodded, mouth open, caught off guard by the young Captain's sudden change of attitude. "Sir, we choose the best weapons for the assignment. And Colonel Maybourne and I may be too over-familiar for your liking, but that doesn't mean there is no lack of respect, Sir. We do it this way because... because it works, Sir." 

"Yeah, that may be so," O'Neill looked Maybourne up and down, "But I know where he's been." 

Hailey grinned. "So do I, Sir." 

"Seriously, Jack, we know what we're doing. If you don't like it, you tell Hammond when we get back. Right now, we've got a job to do. There's a thirty kilometer hike ahead of us, and then..." 

The whole mood had changed. Hailey was waiting for his nod and Maybourne was reaching for his flask again like a tired old soldier. "Okay, okay. I'm not here," O'Neill relented. "You do... whatever." 

"Good boy, Jack." Maybourne put the rifles to one side. "We travel light, just as we discussed in the briefing. Hailey will lead; I'll be tracking her. There's a low-power micro-transmitter... where you don't want to know. If you and I get separated, Jack, we'll rendezvous at the jump point. If either of us don't show, head back here at night-fall. The mission is our top priority. No excuses. Maintain radio silence, Jack. Trust us." 

O'Neill nodded, turning disgustedly as Maybourne sped Hailey on her way. At least now he was in familiar territory. Ahead of them was fifteen-odd miles of dense woodland that Hailey could cover much more quickly on her own. Beyond that was open scrub-land where her speed and stamina would be essential to keep her from being spotted. Then there was the jump point. He and Maybourne would take a more circuitous route, but after Hailey got there she would be on her own anyway. 

That was the part of the plan he didn't like. It smacked of Maybourne: skulking in comparative safety while someone else did the dangerous bit. But Hailey quite obviously more than trusted him; heck, even Hammond had trusted him. 

The whole thing was wrong as far as O'Neill was concerned. Damn the Tok'ra and their sympathetic hides for allowing Maybourne back; and double damn the bad luck that let his path cross with Hailey's. 

And as Maybourne set off at a slow dog-trot that even he could maintain for miles in the shape he was in, O'Neill checked his own P-90. If Hailey didn't get back in one piece, then he'd make damned sure that neither would Maybourne. 

... 

Hailey strolled the last eight kilometers to the drop point; the route Harry was leading the Colonel gave her ample latitude and almost too much discretion. The drop point was everything she'd hoped for: a hundred meters below, the ground sloped gently away from the base of the granite shelf; ahead for a thousand kilometers was nothing but open savannah; and behind her, as she stood at the very edge, the dry, dusty slope allowed her the room she needed. 

In less than five minutes the canopy of her Ultra hang-glider lifted her out over the flat grassland. This was where she and the Air Force really belonged -- in the sky. And the Ultra -- her design, Tok'ra materials, a fifth the weight, double the glide ratio, twice as maneuverable, and ten times the challenge, was how she enjoyed to fly. She soared out over the plains, a speck so small that even if anyone thought to look for her, at any reasonable distance she would be all but unnoticeable. 

She had two hundred kilometers to her intended target: a small, highly efficient clandestine unit that Harry had orchestrated years before but had been forced to abandon when another team of his had got caught. But soon after O'Neill had left Harry with the Tok'ra, through intelligence Harry had provided, the Tok'ra had made contact. Negotiations had gone well... but the rogue NID, attempting to out-wit the Tok'ra, had inadvertently allowed themselves to be compromised by the Goa'uld. Now the race was on to stop them before the intelligence they had acquired could fall into the wrong hands. 

Harry's experiences had taught her never to trust the NID completely: they always wanted to play one side against the other, never satisfied if there was a chance to gain more power. The Tok'ra hadn't learned from Harry's warning, and now they were paying for NID temptation and Tok'ra arrogance. 

Over the previous few weeks, between her, Maybourne and other Tok'ra, they'd tracked the NID and Goa'uld, eliminating each part of the threat one by one. She knew that although the timing wasn't crucial, they were at the most critical part of the mission. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted by the thrill of flying over the alien landscape or the small voice as Maybourne kept her updated of his and O'Neill's progress. 

She knew that the NID had superior technology. The small transport vessel that they'd acquired had stealth capabilities, but there would still be a residual energy signature that should give their position away. Almost seven hours out, she saw the blink of the little tell-tale clipped to her wrap-around visor. 

Deliberately she almost stalled the Ultra, dropping three hundred meters far faster than she ought too, but as she eased out into a long low glide, she gained a kilometer that she would have otherwise had to walk. 

Down safely, she collapsed the Ultra, stowing it away in its compact container tube, and unslinging the rifles from across her back. She signalled Harry. For her, there was perhaps a five kilometer walk; for him... there was only uncertainty. 

She knew she was better than good. As she walked she sighted the rifles, raising them together and in turn, then lowering them so that they hung by her side as she walked, making her arms accept their weight, and her muscles familiar again with the memory she'd drilled into them. 

Three hundred meters from the craft, she stopped. The waiting game would begin. 

The last four NID officers would have watched her approach. They would be debating who and what she was, what her intentions were, and how she'd got there. They could try to take her out from a distance; they could call for backup; they could even leave. And if they'd figured out what she was worth... The sun was about to set behind her. They had all the time they wanted. They were NID -- they were smart and resourceful and cautious; they wouldn't want the glory of her capture all for themselves, they wouldn't just... 

The side hatch opened and all four strolled out, weapons raised. 

She let them advance. Ten meters... twenty... fifty... Their alertness would be decreasing in inverse proportion to their confidence as they got closer. They were NID... they were... 

One hundred meters... Very slowly she let herself lean forward, bending her knees, holding out her weapons, clearly surrendering. But before they could blink at the surprise, she threw herself forward, raising the rifles in a glorious arc, letting off four rounds, obliterating their heads from their necks. 

Hailey knew she wasn't just better than good... _she_ was the best. 

And she couldn't wait to see the look on O'Neill's face when she arrived back at the drop point in the transporter. _If_ he'd done as he was told after Harry had lost him. 

Now she just had to hope that Harry survived his end of the ordeal. 


	3. Redirection

Hammond nodded. "How's the condition of your ankle, Major?" 

For a moment Carter thought he was nodding because of her response, but then she saw a nurse, standing quietly out of the way, prepare a hypo. Her first instinct was to reject the question and offer an opinion, but she stopped herself and moved her foot carefully. "It's good, Sir," she said as steadily as she could. 

"When you last returned through the stargate, outside of your team and the airmen on duty, how many other officers did you see?" 

Carter played the scene over again in her mind. She'd been disoriented but she'd seen... "Two, Sir." 

"How many officers did you hear?" 

This was trickier. She tried to calm herself before she spoke. "One, Sir." 

"How many people went through the gate, Major?" 

She knew the answer to that was a no-brainer. "Three, Sir," she said. 

Hammond looked grim as he nodded. He took a step back as the nurse approached. Carter winced as the needle bit her arm, not liking at all the nurse's smile as she turned and walked out the infirmary. "Get dressed, Major. Briefing in thirty minutes." 

"Sir? Permission to speak freely, Sir?" 

"No, Major. You have your orders." Hammond turned, not even acknowledging Doctor Fraiser as she waited outside. 

"Janet?" Sam glanced at Fraiser as she returned. "What's up?" 

"That's Doctor Fraiser, Major," she replied sourly, removing the ugly and redundant straps. "You may wash here. Your uniform will be delivered shortly." 

Carter looked about as she clambered awkwardly out of the bed. There was a metal basin with a towel and a small bar of soap beside it. Janet watched her dispassionately as she slipped out of the white gown she'd been dressed in. 

"Why the formality, ah, Doctor?" Carter didn't like the way the morning was shaping up; especially when Janet was unhappy. 

"Security." 

"Oh?" 

A nurse arrived with a pile of clothes, and an airman waited outside. "You'd best get dressed and go directly to the briefing room." 

... 

"Take a seat, Major." Hammond didn't look up. 

Carter took the only empty chair. The few personnel that were there were in full uniform and sitting to attention; even Colonel O'Neill. She glanced around the table. The briefing was strictly military; no Daniel or Teal'c, but the Pentagon was represented, and... she raised an eyebrow at the insignia on Hailey's uniform. 

"The Tok'ra," Hammond began, looking up, "The Tok'ra instigated certain covert operations some months ago which ultimately led two days ago to the elimination of several former NID operatives. Until now, the purpose of these operations have remained classified at the highest level." Hammond paused. "This is a heads-up, people." He looked around the room. "The NID operatives had been compromised. The reports before each of you remain classified. The assassinations were deemed necessary even by the Tok'ra. These operations were led by one of their own named Kéla. Until recently only three people within the SGC knew the other identity of this Tok'ra." None too happy, Hammond turned to the woman from the pentagon. "Colonel?" 

Now in a crisp, clean uniform the nurse-turned-Colonel opened her file. "We assigned an officer we could trust to work with the Tok'ra. Their first assignments were routine and a complete success. It was agreed to extend the relationship, to accelerate certain operations to a higher priority. These were also successful." She paused. "Until the last mission, when their operative was taken." 

Sam looked for reactions: no one moved. Colonel O'Neill sat stiffly, eyes straight ahead. Hammond watched the Colonel, and Hailey looked down at the closed file in front of her. 

"Security has since been tightened. Some of our own officers here have been questioned and their motivations scrutinized," the Colonel glanced about her. "Believe me, if you think we have acted unjustly, know that the orders came from the top. With the General's permission, please open your files now." 

Hammond nodded. "Until such time as I deem fit, everyone inside this room is under the strictest orders. I cannot stress enough the importance that we recover or terminate the Tok'ra operative." 

Carter opened the file in front of her. The first page was just an index of code-names for the operations and the status of each. The second had a picture of Hailey and detailed, in part, her selection and the process that led to her involvement. The third... 

Hammond turned to Hailey. "Major?" 

"Thank you, Sir. As we know," she began, "the Tok'ra only accept willing hosts for their symbiotes. On occasion it is necessary to recruit from somewhat unusual and unexpected quarters. Seven months ago Colonel Maybourne became a host." Hailey paused. Since she saw Colonel O'Neill continue to stare straight ahead, Carter decided to stay quiet as well. "The Tok'ra decided that the knowledge he possessed would be... useful. At that time I was assigned to SG-5. It was agreed between the SGC and the Tok'ra that I might be of use to Colonel Maybourne within the Tok'ra Alliance. 

"To our knowledge, only four officers within the SGC knew the details of our last mission. General Hammond held the briefing; Colonel Maybourne and I had the assignment, with Colonel O'Neill along as observer." Hailey looked around the table. "Since our return, I now know Major Carter was also aware that we were off-world together. We were compromised. 

"For the duration of the mission, Colonel O'Neill was not aware that Colonel Maybourne was a Tok'ra host." Hailey paused, waiting for an interruption that didn't come. "Sir, the object of the mission was to eliminate the former NID operatives. This was a solo operation. Colonel Maybourne's presence was for support purposes only. Upon my return to our rendezvous point, I discovered that Colonel Maybourne and Colonel O'Neill had become separated. As per his orders, Colonel O'Neill proceeded to the rendezvous point alone. Subsequently, it was determined that Colonel Maybourne had been taken by a small Goa'uld faction. Again, as per orders, we returned to base. 

"We have since determined that Colonel Maybourne is being held at a location close to..." Hailey stopped, turning to Hammond. "Sir, it was and still is my recommendation that this knowledge be kept restricted. You gave me my orders, Sir: I will terminate anyone I deem a threat to our operations. Colonel O'Neill's feelings about the Tok'ra and Colonel Maybourne are well known; and Major Carter has been compromised before." 

"Yes, thank you, Major. Your orders still stand, but while you're under my command I cannot send you in alone." Hammond stood. "We believe that Colonel Maybourne may not yet have been removed from... his last known location. But that is the only hope we have, so you will have to start there." He glanced at the Colonel from the Pentagon. "If you have nothing to add?" She shook her head. "Then Colonel O'Neill will lead the mission with Major Carter and Major Hailey to locate and extract the symbiote with or without Colonel Maybourne -- if either are still alive. Failing that, you will ensure that both are destroyed." At this, Hailey glanced up at him. "I know, Major, but you knew the risks when you took on the assignment. We cannot allow Colonel Maybourne's knowledge to fall into the hands of the Goa'uld." Hammond looked down. There was no file in front of him -- not even he was allowed to know. "I'll be in my office... Dismissed." 

Hailey was the first to stand and salute. Carter saluted uncertainly as the General and the Colonel from the Pentagon left the briefing room. 

"We've not got much time," O'Neill said. "This works on a need to know basis. When everyone's familiarized with the reports and the mission details, we move out in an hour. Questions?" 

"Major, huh? Wow!" Carter regarded Hailey almost enviously. Apart from looking a bit heavier and more tired about the eyes, she'd hardly changed in the two years since she'd been made lieutenant. O'Neill didn't even blink, but Hailey did turn to face her. 

"If you have anything pertinent, Major?" Hailey looked up at her. "I know your file. Everything. And Colonel Maybourne had unrestricted access. We are a good team." She paused, glancing at the Colonel. "We may have been unconventional by SGC standards, and the Colonel may disagree with Tok'ra methods, but we got our job done. If Colonel Maybourne dies... I'm certain, Major, that neither of us would care to lose..." Hailey turned to O'Neill. "With your permission, Colonel, there are certain... items I need to prepare?" 

"Of course, Major," O'Neill said, returning Hailey's salute and watching her march out of the briefing room. 

"Colonel?" Sam asked, "What did she mean about Maybourne?" 

"Oh, trust me, Carter, you don't want to know." O'Neill shivered. "He always was a dirty old snake; and in front of the General, Hailey plays it strictly by the book. Dammit, if those two weren't made for each other." 

"Sir?" 

"Oh, don't be so dense, Major!" O'Neill collapsed back into his chair. "Sorry, Carter," he apologized, "It's all this procedure and the sound of... All you need to know is that we have to get Maybourne out... or kill the son-of-a-bitch trying. And don't let Hailey get to you." He shook his head. "A Major before she's twenty-whatever? Wait till we get off-world... then you'll see." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Now go get ready. We gate in half an hour." 


	4. Allegiance

"We do this my way. Understand, Hailey?" O'Neill had led them through the gate and they'd made straight for the nearest cover. 

"Of course, Sir." 

"Good, then." O'Neill straightened his cap. "We'll retrace the route we took on the way out. Approach base one with caution, and this time we stay together, okay?" 

"Yes, Sir." 

Carter watched the two of them face off. She knew the look in Hailey's eyes; she'd heard the tone in Hailey's voice before. Except that before, it was she who'd been determined to do everything she could when Colonel O'Neill had been taken. And it was one thing to be loyal, but she had no idea what Maybourne had done to deserve it from Hailey. It was almost as if... The Colonel had been correct. Now that they were off-world, she really did believe, however ridiculous, that there was more between them than there should be. 

Carter followed the Colonel's lead, a few paces behind, flanking Hailey. The whole experience still didn't make sense to her. She'd lost two days and no one would tell her why. Colonel O'Neill was to defer to Hailey in matters of strategy. She had even been bumped up to Major on the strength of nothing she could identify. Even if Hailey was still a Lieutenant, she had to wonder if in her arrogance she'd take orders from her. And most ridiculous of all, there'd been the gravest issues when her father... at least they could trust him; but _Maybourne_? 

They had eight kilometers to their first base, and according to Hailey's intelligence -- which no one else could verify -- only another twelve kilometers to where Maybourne was allegedly being held. The transport vessel Hailey had taken was now in the hands of the Tok'ra and no longer available to them. 

There were just too many questions. Hailey had taken out four NID -- on her own; flown a Goa'uld transport -- on her own; Maybourne had got himself taken -- and now Hailey was all but leading his rescue attempt. And the Tok'ra were staying out of the way. 

The silence was deafening. 

They reached base one and hardly paused. Hailey looked around for any new signs, any disturbances, and found nothing. Or, nothing she thought worth mentioning. And it was clear that Colonel O'Neill wasn't happy, but once Hailey was done she stood waiting and eager to move on -- even when the Colonel called a ten minute break. Carter knew that Hailey was motivated, but there were limits. 

And she didn't let up when they started off again. She kept her position perfectly, not saying a word, not even exchanging glances beyond what was required. It was almost a relief when she finally broke and ran ahead a few meters before quickly calling a halt. Colonel O'Neill had just been following a natural trail, but Hailey apparently knew exactly where they were. And even then she didn't stand still. From a pocket she removed a small device that she wouldn't let either of them see and appeared to scan ahead. 

"Sir. Eight hundred meters due south," Hailey said, removing her pack. "If..." 

"Patience, Hailey," O'Neill said. "We've got this far with me in charge, so we continue do it my way." Hailey had already opened her pack, but the look O'Neill shot her slowed her down. "Carter, you go see what you can... see. Hailey needs to... get her arsenal together. I'll stay here just in case." O'Neill frowned as the two Majors all but glared at each other. "Not that I don't trust you, Hailey, you understand, but I trust Carter just... oh, a whole lot more." 

O'Neill sat uncomfortably as Carter moved off, as Hailey finished emptying her pack. He watched her curiously. She still had a Dragunov, but the second rifle he'd never seen before. 

"SiG SG 550, Sir," Hailey said without looking up. "Swiss design; police issue in the Middle East; very adjustable; gas, semi-automatic; thirty rounds in the magazine. There's no flash-hider and it'll bloom out -- but Harry will know it's me." Hailey looked up at her slip of the tongue. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?" At O'Neill's nod she continued, "It means while your spraying all and sundry with your P-90, I can pick out my targets with single shots from any position. You've seen my file, Sir." 

"Indeed I have." He pushed his cap back and scratched his head. "The parts that weren't blacked out." 

Hailey nodded at his uncertainty, but carried on regardless. "Y'know, Jack." Hailey looked up at him more icily than he expected. "Didn't it _once_ cross your mind why a spook from the Pentagon was in on the briefings?" And he certainly wasn't used to being addressed by his first name. 

"Ah, Major?" 

"Hear me out, Sir." She shook her head. "Didn't you _once_ wonder why they kept Carter out of the way? Shit, the things they did to her before she was let in on this. You know they sedated her. They used a healing device on her so that her ankle would mend; so that when they reamed her and beat her the bruises wouldn't show; so that we could be certain she wouldn't alter her story if she was taken. So that afterwards she wouldn't remember, so that they could do it over again." She grinned unpleasantly. "Whatever happens, you and the Major will be absolved as a result of my actions. And if it'll make it any easier for you, they did worse to me and it isn't over yet." 

O'Neill just stared at her. 

"Sir, you and your precious Carter will never really know what you think of each other. But me and Harry?" She stopped and pulled a cigar from a pocket. "He's in here with me." She tapped her head. "Damn these snakes," she laughed as she lit the battered stogie, "but they make these things taste even worse; at least now they're totally harmless." She settled back against the trunk of a tree while O'Neill tried to accept all that she was telling him. 

"You think they'll make a runt like me a Major for no reason? Y'know how Selmak got into Jacob? Think about it, Jack." For a few moments she puffed contentedly on the cigar. "Harry and I shared Kéla. It was his idea. For a month we shared Kéla between us until..." Her eyes flashed and remained lit with a glow that she knew O'Neill feared and hated. She lowered her head and the glow disappeared. "No one knows even a fraction of this -- certainly not Hammond -- but now you do, so you'll understand why I've got to get Harry back." She laughed. "When I said we were a good team... without him I'm as good as dead. It's the same for Harry. You know what I mean? Like you and Carter, but with the... Oh, don't look so disgusted, Jack. If only you weren't so damned squeamish. And speak of the devil, here comes the brilliant Major now." Hailey scrambled to her feet, grinding out the cigar and scattering the remains with a boot. "I know everything Harry knows, but it's up to you how we do this." She glanced in Carter's direction. "Sir." 

"Well?" O'Neill asked Carter, rather more testily than he'd intended. 

"Sir?" Carter glanced at Hailey, but she'd moved away, back to her rifles. "If Colonel Maybourne is being held there..." she stopped as Hailey looked back and nodded. "Then now will be our best shot. There's a dozen Jaffa..." 

"A dozen? You mean exactly twelve? Or is that an estimate?" Hailey turned on her. "Say what you mean, Major." 

"Exactly twelve." She looked questioningly at O'Neill, but he just shook his head for her to continue. "It's a small camp, square, fifty meters each side, maybe eighty meters from the nearest cover. There's a single pavilion in the middle. One Jaffa at each corner, one at the single entrance. Each has a staff weapon and a Zat. Four Jaffa walk the perimeter of the camp. There's one Jaffa inside..." 

"How do you know?" Hailey interrupted. 

"By the shadows cast on the side of the pavilion," Carter glared at her, exasperated. "Sir?" She asked the Colonel again. 

"Continue, Carter. Hailey's asking the same questions I would... Just not as nicely, is all." 

"Yes, Sir. Two Jaffa patrol outside the clearing." She turned to Hailey, only to see a broad smile on her face. "Their movement appears random," she concluded quietly. They both watched Hailey go to her pack. "Sir?" 

"Yeah. Good question, Carter." They saw Hailey fetch out a small hand gun and fit a silencer to it." You have got to be kidding me, Hailey." He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Not a Walther PPK. Tell me..." 

"Standard CIA issue, Sir. Of course, the silencer is mine." 

"Of course it is. I take it you want to take out the two stray Jaffa?" 

"Just being prepared, Sir." She glanced at Carter. "It'll be quieter than a Zat and you know I'm a good shot, Sir." 

"You wanna do this on your own, Hailey?" 

"I've done this before and no disrespect, Sir, but Colonel Maybourne is mine, Sir." 

"Yeah, he is that. And for what it's worth, when this is over, you can keep him." O'Neill thought for a few seconds. "You can take them? Yeah, of course you can. What's your plan?" 

"Sir, I'll terminate the two outside the perimeter. You and Major Carter head for the cover at the north-east corner of their compound. Take my rifles. Just place them on the ground a yard apart. If the Jaffa at the perimeter walk it as Major Carter suggests, I should be able to take out at least four at the moment the path of the outer Jaffa cross the inner; then the one inside, and maybe two more." 

"Seven?" Carter asked, incredulous. 

"Single shots to the head from a range of 150 meters, with two rifles, simultaneously. The first four less than a degree of arc, the one inside, and depending on the timing, the guard at the entrance, and perhaps another one behind on the perimeter." Hailey waited for the rebuke, before shrugging at Carter's silence. "Once you've delivered my rifles, your job will be to swing round to the west and take out the two or three left standing at the back. Use your P-90s as you will, but try not to lose control and don't hit the pavilion." 

"But how will you know not to hit Colonel Maybourne..." Carter asked again. 

Hailey turned to O'Neill. "Sir?" 

"That's classified, Carter." 

"I'll give you ten minutes to get in position. The first you'll know is when their heads explode." Hailey chuckled. 

"This isn't a game, _Major_," Carter frowned. 

"And I didn't ask for your assistance, _Major_," Hailey shot back. "You have no idea what I see when I touch the trigger." She turned to O'Neill. "It has to be this way, Sir. You know you can't tell her anything. Just let me do my job and get Harry out of there." 

"Sorry, Carter, she's right," O'Neill said, stopping Carter's next question. "All yours then, Hailey, and good luck." 

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," Hailey said, beginning to strip out of her gear. "You might want to look away." She glanced across at Carter. "I'm small and light, I can move more quietly and easily like this," she said, finally removing her boots revealing rubber soled socks as she stood in a skin-tight, one-piece camouflage lycra suit. "Small, but perfectly formed," Hailey grinned. 

"Yeah. Seen it before," O'Neill coughed. "Harry's idea, apparently." He shrugged at Carter. They watched Hailey run for all of fifteen yards before they lost sight of her. "You're with me, then, Carter." 

"Yes, Sir." Carter walked quickly to match his stride, picking up the rifles in the process. "You can't tell me anything, Sir?" 

"Don't hit the big tent thing," O'Neill said. "Never trust a snake. And," he picked up his pace, "believe me I wouldn't... you're... Heck, you know me, Carter. The way those two work together is _so_ wrong." 

"She getting to you, Sir?" 

"Oh, more than you'll ever know, Carter." 

"Yes, Sir." 

O'Neill looked at his watch. "Six minutes. I'll take the rifles, you go round the back, I'll stay to the side. Stay alert." He waited for Carter to get out of sight before moving on. Just at the north-east corner he set down the rifles. He had no idea if he was being watched, but as casually as he could he moved back and placed a small digital camera hopefully pointing along Hailey's line of sight before taking up his position. 


	5. Triple Cross

O'Neill looked at his watch again. Thirty seconds late. He made himself as comfortable as he could, lying prone in the long grass, selecting his first target. 

Then it happened. Two : four : five : he squeezed his trigger once : seven : eight : ten. He looked around. The first two still hadn't hit the deck... but their heads... fountains of blood spewed in their place. Before he could move, Hailey was already running to the tent, pistol in hand. Quite calmly she ran round the outside towards the back. She let off three rounds. Three heads went pop. 

Hailey dropped to her knees then and her body heaved. O'Neill looked across at Carter as she emerged from her position looking curiously back at him. O'Neill shrugged as Hailey left the contents of her stomach on the grass. Carter reached her first. 

"Don't let this fool you," Hailey glared up at her. "You don't know what I see; you don't see it, you won't want to see it. You'll never see it!" she spat. "Harry? Where's Harry? We've got to get him out of there, Jack, now!" Her eyes went wide. "Now! Do it! There's more Jaffa coming." She closed her eyes. "Two minutes. Eight of them. He knows. Run, Carter! Take cover! North-east! Just do it!" she yelled, chasing after O'Neill. 

They found Maybourne trussed up with the headless guard fallen on top of him. "No time. Just grab a leg and drag," she laughed. "He'll live." Her eyes flashed as they pulled him out, blood splattering everywhere. They dragged him, bouncing and cursing to the safety of the low bushes seconds before the Jaffa entered the clearing. Hailey shook her head. "Sorry, Harry." She hit him once, knocking him out. "They're attuned to his symbiote," she said by way of explanation. 

"Lucky Harry." 

"Give me the first four shots, Jack. I'll pick them off from the back." Hailey calmed herself as she picked up the SSG 550. "Then they're all yours, fire at will." 

O'Neill nodded. "Sure thing. Why not." He and Carter raised their P-90s. In two seconds four heads exploded then they let loose. The lead Jaffa turned just in time to hear the explosion of gun-fire before they, too, fell. 

Carter frowned as Hailey shot their heads away. "Jack?" she asked. 

"Long story, Carter. How's Maybourne doing?" 

"He'll be fine," Hailey wheezed as she fought to control her stomach. "Watch him until he comes round. We should be in the clear now. If you collect our gear and head for the gate." She stood and began walking away slowly. "There's some things I need to tell Carter," she said, not even looking to see if Carter followed. 

O'Neill watched her. "Sure. Whatever you say. _Major_." 

Two miles down the track Carter finally drew level with her. 

"Harry and I are not your usual team, Major. He's Tok'ra now, and we have a different kind of understanding to you and Jack." 

"Yeah. For a start I don't call the Colonel by his first name." 

"No, you wouldn't." She paused. "Don't get me wrong; you two are the finest there is. I'll never be half the officer you are. I'm just a runt that got mixed up in something bigger than I was made for. The burden I have to carry goes beyond... I need to rest." Hailey sat heavily, coughing up blood from an empty stomach. 

"What's wrong, Hailey?" 

"Nothing you'll understand." Hailey returned Carter's stare, dismissing the sympathy she didn't want. "I envy what you and your Colonel have," she began, "But being with Harry... his habits have a way of corrupting even the best ideals. The Colonel knows the truth but..." 

"It's classified." 

"Yeah. If Colonel O'Neill could tell you... I'm no Major. All the things I've done, everything I've seen... there is no preparation for it. Taking this assignment when it was offered to me was my decision. You believed in me and General Hammond trusted your judgment, but I _still_ have to prove that I can do it. Being with Colonel Maybourne -- what we do -- it's exhilarating. Believe me, you can't possibly imagine it. But coming down... it hurts," she spat more blood. "It hurts a lot. But it was _my_ choice and I don't regret it." Hailey paused. "We should head for the gate." 

"Not yet. If you need medication I can..." 

Hailey almost choked as she laughed. "Thanks, but given time I'll recover." 

"At least try not to be so stubborn," Carter chided her gently. "We'll wait here. Rest." 

At that, Hailey looked up at her, making eye contact and for once maintaining it with a respect that was surprising. "Yes, Ma'am." Hailey leaned back, closing her eyes, and Carter saw again just how young she really was and how tired. And how much she had been forced to live up to. But when Maybourne and Colonel O'Neill came into sight she jumped up, smiled weakly, but still managed to act as if nothing was wrong. 

"Whatever you think of me, Major, I always aim to do my best, and I do it for a reason. I always give Harry -- Colonel Maybourne -- one hundred percent, and he gives the same for me." Hailey wobbled uncertainly as Maybourne drew near, and he ran to support her, ignoring the bemused glances thrown his way. 

... 

The long trek back to the stargate was slow. Carter and Colonel O'Neill tried their hardest to avoid exchanging glances as they walked in silence behind Maybourne and Hailey, as they leaned on each other, making small talk that neither of them wanted to hear. Whatever their differences, there was still a right -- and a very wrong -- way of doing things. 

Eventually they reached the gate. Carter looked away as O'Neill dialed home and activated his GDO, relieved that it was over. But Maybourne held O'Neill back. He hadn't said two words her, and looking at what he'd done to Hailey, she was glad. At O'Neill's signal, she didn't want to look back as they waited for her to go through the gate. 

"We're not going back with you, Jack. We can't," Maybourne said. 

"Oh?" 

"The original targets we took out were NID," Hailey continued. "But they were merely the bait. The Tok'ra aren't as united as they'd have you think. It wasn't Harry they wanted, but we had to let them take him in the hope that they'd want to get to me. The guard in the tent was a Tok'ra agent who wanted to stop us. _He_ was the one _we_ were after. This is a war, Jack, and the stakes are high. For what it's worth, the others really were Jaffa. Our people will clean up after we've gone." 

"And again, I say, oh?" 

"This definitely isn't the right time or place, Jack," Maybourne said softly, taking Hailey's hand. "But when is it ever?" he grinned. "How would you like to be his god-father, Jack?" 

"Say what!?" 

"I'm pregnant, Sir," Hailey smiled. "_They_ wanted a bright young thing to... You wouldn't believe who gave us the go-ahead. Of course, you can't tell anyone. And Carter thinks I'm just a brat in too deep again, gone bad under Harry's influence, so you can blame him." 

"But you know what this means," Maybourne continued. "And someone outside the Tok'ra has to know, just in case." 

"Yeah, well, congratulations and all that, but are you sure, Harry?" 

"Trust me, Jack. Hammond won't be happy, and the Pentagon will be furious, but it has to be this way for everyone's safety. We'll be in touch when we're ready." 

"And you'd better go now, Sir. They won't hold the gate open much longer." 

"Yeah, right." O'Neill turned and ran to the gate. But just before he went through, some instinct made him stop and look back. He'd been on some crazy missions before, but this one... He wondered just how much of it he was really meant to understand as Maybourne and Hailey -- hugging each other for heaven's sake -- disappeared within a set of transport rings. 


End file.
